Magritte Window Poem by Sadiqullah Khan

I see it rain from Magritte window,
Crimson green, grays and gouache -
On Pavilion of Three Laughs, Wang Wi,
Gentle staff, walks with heavy gown.

And I intend to drive to Kohsar,
Hazel nut coffee, crackling seedlings,
Yellow leaves burn, smoke and water.

When it rains, clouds pour in Islamabad -
Bursting long silent skies, Margallas steam,
And a calm recourse, on my ruesome heart.

My friend Suleman Yaqub,
Offers an ink-pen of iridium nib,
Says it comes from meteorites
And may my verses be with beauty even;
We discussed, ‘chasing shadows'
And feel of presence in ‘orchard of raining petals'.

Erstwhile religions, discourses of wise,
Those who spent years in prisons
Prisoners of conscience, -now though flown
And those who spoke, sense, elegant men,
The sixties and the seventies harbored
In the rust and dust of the city of flowers.

It still rains.

Sadiqullah Khan
Islamabad
January 12,2016.